The Art of Living
by BlueAquarisGirl
Summary: slightly AU, Sakura-centric. For everything you have missed, you have gained something else, and for everything you gain, you lose something else.


Seto Haruno reached into his pocket and drew out a necklace. Hanging from the thin silver chain was a tiny, pink pendant shaped like a flower. In the light, the charm glowed faintly, and when she saw it, his five-year old daughter's eyes widened with delight and wonder.

"Oh, Papa, it's _sooo_ pretty!"

"When we were passing through a small village on our way home, I saw this in the window of one of the shops and thought of you, Sakura-chan," he told her, smiling.

An important mission had kept him away from his family for two weeks, which was the longest he'd ever gone without hearing his daughter's bright, bell-like laughter or waking up next to his wife every morning. Misaki probably would have accompanied him on the mission, as she often did, had it not been for the fact that she was pregnant and on maternity-leave. In his short absence, Misaki's belly seemed to have grown considerably and she had complained of the baby kicking more than usual lately, a sign that she was due to give birth any day now.

In any case, Seto was relieved to have been able to return home before the baby came; he knew that he or she would bring them just as much joy as their daughter had.

He slipped the chain over his daughter's head. She touched the flower charm and smiled up at him, her eyes shining. She was a spitting image of Misaki, but her eyes were the same color as his-a vibrant jade green. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

"Time for bed."

"Tell me a story, first! _Pleaseee._"

It was hard to be firm with her. Seto was good at giving orders to his teammates when needed and making sure they were followed right away, but against his daughter, he was practically helpless, something that his wife had pointed out many times before. Not seeing her for two weeks made it even more difficult to not give into her right away. And as if she had sensed that he was about to do so, Misaki appeared in the doorway of their daughter's room.

"You've only been home a few hours and she's already crushed your resolve into nothing." She sounded both bemused and exasperated.

Seto grinned. "I believe she learned that from _you_, my dear. I've never had the strength to tell you 'no', either."

At that, Misaki smiled and laughed, shaking her head.

"Very well. Five more minutes. And I mean _five minutes._" It was hard to say whether the pointed look she gave them was meant more for Seto or their daughter. Either way, once his wife had gone, he winked at her and she giggled.

After helping Sakura get under the blankets and tucking them in snugly around her, he asked her which story she wanted to hear, even though he could already guess what her answer would be

Sure enough, she requested the one about a princess named Hikairi. Seto recited the tale from memory and she listened intently to every word, reacting with surprise at certain parts, clutching her stuffed rabbit closer to her in anticipation, as if were the first he'd told it to her, when in fact, she had heard the story at least half a dozen times. But halfway through, she began to doze off, her eyes softly fluttering shut.

"Sleep tight, Sakura-chan," Seto said, bending down to kiss her cheek.

"G'night, Papa," she murmured sleepily.

He tiptoed out of the room, shutting the light off as he went and shut the door quietly. He found Misaki in their bedroom seated on the edge of the bed and brushing her long pink hair out.

"She's always so happy when you come back," Misaki said, sighing heavily. "There was nothing I could do to cheer her up. I even tried reading her a bedtime story, but it was no good." She frowned. "She's more your child than mine."

"Sakura loves you," Seto insisted. "You are a wonderful mother. She may not come to you often now, but there will come a time where I cannot help her and she will need you most. And besides," he lowered himself down onto the bed to sit next to her, "soon you will have a new child to care for, to keep you busy." He placed a hand on her swollen belly, stroking it lovingly.

"Yes, but I can't stay at home forever, Seto. I'll have to go back to work sooner or later and leave the baby with my sister." Misaki looked down. "I enjoy being a shinobi and serving Konoha as you do. But with Sakura getting older and another baby on the way, I can't help thinking how I'd like to be home more often."

This wasn't the first time Misaki had expressed such a desire. She came from a family of mostly civilians, so her decision to join the ranks of the shinobi had been a bit unusual. Typically, they were assigned missions that required them to travel short distances, leaving Sakura with relatives for a few days, or sometimes allowed one to stay home and care for their daughter and the house while the other went off, as had been the case with Seto's most recent mission. Being a mother, it was probably harder for Misaki to leave, Seto thought, and he could understand her not wanting to leave Sakura or the baby behind, even though her sister was perfectly capable of child-care.

"It's an awful thing to say," Misaki murmured. "I know there are others who aren't as lucky as we are, who don't see their families sometimes for weeks or months at a time." Her voice cracked a little. "Or who have never seen their children at all..."

Seto wrapped his other arm around his wife, pulling her close to him. "There is nothing wrong with wanting to be with your children. And I'm sure there are other women who have considered giving up their position as a shinobi so they could have more time and raise them. Both my mother and my father were jounin and even though they managed to make time for us as much as possible, we were mostly raised by other relatives. They did it not only because it was their duty, but because they believed it was a small sacrifice that would help protect us and the rest of the village." Seto paused, running his fingers through Misaki's hair. "The life of a shinobi requires many sacrifices, but you always have a choice of the ones you make and the ones you don't."

She raised her gaze to look up at him, her eyes gleaming with tears, and smiled wearily. "You would not think me weak, or foolish?"

Seto shook his head. "I would never think that. You are my comrade, my wife, the mother of our children, and a kunoichi of Konoha. I could never see you as anything less."

They kissed, and he could feel the dampness of tears upon her face. When they separated, Seto brushed them away with his thumb.

"I love you," Misaki whispered.

"I love you, too."

As his wife got into bed, Seto shut off the light, then lay down next to her. Misaki had missed him as much as he had missed her, he thought, perhaps even more. She drifted off within a few minutes, lulled to sleep by the sound of him humming.

"I am glad you are home," she murmured, just before she fell asleep.

He couldn't have agreed with her more.


End file.
